“Hm. Didn’t you use to be a lot smaller?”
“Yes,” said Jinx. “Because I used to be six.”
― quote from Jinx
“...if you spent all your time being protected, you never got to find out anything new.”
― quote from Jinx
“I was banished,” said Reven proudly.
“What for?” Elfwyn pressed.
“The king said I was anathema.”
“He doesn’t like athemas?”
“Anathema means, like, accursed,” said Jinx. “Probably it was for robbing people.”
― quote from Jinx
“I’m not sure how people drink out of skulls,” Jinx added. Calvin had too many holes in him to make a good cup.”
― quote from Jinx
“I’ll accompany you too, fair lady,” said Reven. “I would fain meet your grandmother.”
“You would what?” said Elfwyn.
“He means he’d like to,” said Jinx. Some of the books in Simon’s house used old-fashioned words like that.”
― quote from Jinx
“Many things in life are difficult," said Reven, choosing his words carefully. "But to those who persevere, all things are possible. ”
― quote from Jinx
“Life is dangerous," said Simon. "Young people need to see the world.”
― quote from Jinx
“The king killed his brother, who was actually king, so that he could be king. Then the dead king’s wife and baby disappeared, on account the baby would’ve been king, so the brother probably killed them, too. They do that kind of thing all the time, kings do. They can kill anybody they don’t like.”
― quote from Jinx
“Much everyday anger results when we confuse our own personal wants with general moral codes.”
― David D. Burns, quote from Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy
“That’s it. That is fucking it. I stand up, grab Anna by the waist and, while dragging her to the bedroom, say over my shoulder to Brent, “If you can answer the door when her brother gets here, we’d appreciate it. Don’t bother us for the next hour, two if Anna’s as insatiable as usual. You may want to turn on the television to drown out the noise!” I push a laughing Anna into the bedroom and slam the door behind us. ”
― April Brookshire, quote from Young Love Murder
“اسمعي يا عزيزتي، إذا خلطتِ بين الشعر والسياسة فستحبلين قبل أن يرف جفنكِ.”
― Antonio Skármeta, quote from The Postman
“It was then that I made the discovery that his talk created reverberations, that the echo took a long time to reach one's ears. I began to compare it with French talk in which I had been enveloped for so long. The latter seemed more like the play of light on an alabaster vase, something reflective, nimble, dancing, liquid, evanescent, whereas the other, the Katsimbalistic language, was opaque, cloudy, pregnant with resonances which could only be understood long afterwards, when the reverberations announced the collision with thoughts, people, objects located in distant parts of the earth. The Frenchman puts walls about his talk, as he does about his garden: he puts limits about everything in order to feel at home. At bottom he lacks confidence in his fellow-man; he is skeptical because he doesn't believe in the innate goodness of human beings. He has become a realist because it is safe and practical. The Greek, on the other hand, is an adventurer: he is reckless and adaptable, he makes friends easily. The walls which you see in Greece, when they are not of Turkish or Venetian origin, go back to the Cyclopean age. Of my own experience I would say that there is no more direct, approachable, easy man to deal with than the Greek. He becomes a friend immediately: he goes out to you. With the Frenchman friendship is a long and laborious process: it may take a lifetime to make a friend of him. He is best in acquaintanceship where there is little to risk and where there are no aftermaths. The very word ami contains almost nothing of the flavor of friend, as we feel it in English. C'est mon ami cannot be translated by "this is my friend." There is no counterpart to this English phrase in the French language. It is a gap which has never been filled, like the word "home." These things affect conversation. One can converse all right, but it is difficult to have a heart to heart talk.”
― Henry Miller, quote from The Colossus of Maroussi
“You gently leaned over her to kiss her forehead and pulled the blankets around her shoulders. No father can adequately articulate the experience of watching his sleeping child—it must be lived. Now, imagine you are walking out of her room. Could you turn around and look at her and believe that the sum of her existence rests in a mass of cells? Certainly not. But this is exactly how a rank secularist is obliged to view his daughter. She is nothing more than a genetic product of his and her mother’s DNA. The puffing of air through her tiny chest keeps her alive. Your time with her is precious, meaningful, but purely a biological phenomenon. Her thoughts and feelings can be traced to neuronal firing in her brain. One day you will die and she will die and that will be that. Life began through the splitting and rejoining of DNA and when they stopped functioning, she did too.”
― quote from Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters: 10 Secrets Every Father Should Know
The Good Daughter
Averno
These Shallow Graves
To The Bright Edge o...
Space Cadet
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